"I’m searching for answers too. But how we look for them
doesn’t matter. As long as we look for them together. You and me."

Hecuba gazed through the doorway at the two figures seated on
a bench in the yard. Her firstborn, home at last after a harrowing experience.
With her, the warrior Hecuba blamed. Both women responsible for the birth and
death of her monstrous granddaughter and great-grandson.

To think she’d embraced Gabrielle’s look-alike child as her
own - so happy to believe Gabrielle had returned, so willing to accept her changed
personality as evidence of an "adventure" gone wrong. All of it a
mockery of the dreams she’d clung to for Gabrielle of a normal family life nearby.
Instead, the daughter in front of her chose to hold on to the ex-warlord at
her side, light head resting against the other’s dark one.

They looked so alone in the moonlight. Isolated from the surroundings
Hecuba took for granted. Yet bathed in a surprising serenity untouched by horrors
she could never have imagined. Their love for each other was palpable. Even
from behind, she could sense it enveloping them, shielding them, entwining and
feeding each other’s souls. Lending credence to the sentiments she’d overheard
them express. It truly didn’t seem to matter what existed outside the two of
them.

She shifted her eyes upward. As usual the twinkling lights touched
her. Lifted heaviness from her heart. Reminded her of joys she could neither
own nor lose. Promised brighter tomorrows far beyond her limited horizons. If
she wanted, she could accept such in the forms quietly consoling each other
a few feet away. Envision her daughter as one of those stars. The warrior as
Gabrielle’s night sky. Together as the universe intended.

Whatever Xena’s role in their family’s pain, she was Gabrielle’s
life now. Denying the warrior meant denying Gabrielle. Denying a spirit destined
to shine regardless of whether in the setting Hecuba dreamed. No doubt Gabrielle
would leave soon. Hecuba recognized this time it was her choice too - whether
to see her child like the heavens or gone forever.

"Daughter?" Hecuba waited until Gabrielle wiped at
her face and turned around. "I don’t mean to intrude." Pulling her
shawl closer, she took a few steps forward. "You girls must be cold. And
tired. No proper sleep or sustenance in two days. Come in now. I made that hot
apple cider you love." She smiled at Xena. "You might like it too."

Gabrielle stood, pulling Xena up with her. "Um, thanks.
I …. We …."

"You will stay awhile, won’t you? It’s been so long since
…. So much to talk about."

"Oh, yes. Please?" Lila practically skipped from her
listening post at the door. "You can stay in my room, with me. It’ll be
like old times."

Gabrielle glanced between the hopeful faces of her mother and
sister, then at the expressionless warrior. "Lila, I’d love to …. It’s
just, with all that’s happened, Xena and I haven’t had a chance to -."

"G’won." Xena smiled down at Gabrielle. "Barn’ll
do fine for me. Joxer’n I can get in some more bonding."

"Xena …."

The warrior rested her hand on Gabrielle’s shoulder. "It wasn’t really
you they got to spend time with," she reminded softly. "You want to
leave them with that?"

Gabrielle sighed. "No …. How long …. What about Argo?"

"No reason Joxer’n I can’t look for her while you -."

Gabrielle shook her head. "We leave together. Maybe in
a day or two."

"Sounds like a plan. Got some … unfinished business in
the barn anyway."

"Oh, Herodotus and Joxer are taking care of that."
Hecuba smiled her relief. "Perhaps you might go into the village? Let people
know it’s safe now?"

"Sure." Xena winked at Hecuba. "Think I’ll take
you up on that cider first. One of my mom’s specialties too."

"Of course." Hecuba turned to lead the way back inside.
"I’ll fill a wash bowl. You can clean up a bit before you go." She
held the door open for the others to file inside. "When you’re finished,
I’ll get my healing bag. You’ve let those wounds go far too long. Especially
that gash on your arm."

"I appreciate all your help." Herodotus sat across
from Joxer as the two worked on the mill broken during Xena’s encounters with
Hope and the Destroyer. "Could use someone like you around here."

"Yeah, always been good with my hands. I have many - ouch!"
Joxer sucked on the thumb he’d hammered. "Kinda outta practice. More used
to swords, now that I’m a -."

"Your character is what I meant. Brave, reliable, good
manners. A father’d be proud to give his daughter to you."

Joxer snorted. "Yeah, well, Gabrielle might not be too
keen on -."

"Gabrielle? I was thinking of Lila." Herodotus relaxed
back, regarding Joxer thoughtfully. "Of course, she’s younger. Couple boys
around here wouldn’t be bad suitors. Her sister …." He gritted his teeth.
"Not much chance for her. Out on the road. With that … woman."

"You kiddin’? I see the looks she gets." An idea began
bubbling in Joxer’s brain. "Yeah, looks from guys you wouldn’t like."
He stuck out his chest. "Luckily Joxer the Mighty’s around. You know, to
defend her honor. Yeah, I could do that on a more regular basis. With your permission,
of course. Um, not saying Xena wouldn’t -."

"Xena?!" Herodotus’ lip curled in disgust. "She
stands between someone like you and my daughter?"

"Um, no …. I mean, yes …. What I meant is, in the fighting
department, Xena’s -."

"I knew it." Herodotus’ train of thought was on its
own track - one that had taken his daughter from him toward a destination no
self-respecting father would approve. "She always had these fanciful ideas.
Never satisfied with how things were. Smart, pretty. Betrothed to a solid man.
Enough for any other girl. Not her. First whiff of excitement, off she goes."

Joxer grinned. "She’s pretty feisty all right. Thinkin’
she can mix it up with the big boys. Whips that staff around like …. Well, after
I took her under my wing, of course. Lotta work gettin’ `er up ta my speed.
Should see the bruises I got -."

"All those pipe dreams of hers. ‘Beauty’ this and ‘interesting’
that. Imaginary places - people singing and dancing all day. What did it get
her?" Herodotus shook his head. "A warlord? A killer? A walking corpse?
Only way that woman’d see a flower was if it had blood on it."

"Uh, sir?" Joxer frowned. "You talkin’ about
Xena?"

Herodotus put his hand on Joxer’s shoulder. "You see, don’t
you, boy? My Gabrielle was sweet, pure. What kind of person would want to see
blood on someone like her?" His jaw clenched. "See her trampled and
twisted. Turned into grist for monsters."

Joxer sat open-mouthed. As much as he secretly adored Gabrielle,
he’d never pictured her quite like that. Certainly not dainty or fragile. Not
squished into something ugly either. The only Gabrielle he’d known was more
like a … weed. Tough to get rid of. Popping up where it oughtn’t. In the shade,
under rockslides, against the howling wind. Heck, between them, she and Xena
…. Joxer bit his lip. His best friends were right. Sometimes he could be such
an idiot.

"No, sir. I don’t see. Not like you anyway." Joxer
removed Herodotus’ hand from his shoulder. "You don’t know them like I
do."

"I don’t know my own daughter?" Herodotus got to his
feet and glowered down at Joxer. "Even her daughter said it. How she’s
changed being with Xena."

"Is it a lie Xena put Gabrielle in harm’s way? Let that
… that thing plant his evil seed inside her? Let her throw herself in
that pit to spare Xena? To endure gods know what torment? Is Xena’s hold over
Gabrielle a lie? Why else would she rather live that woman’s awful life than
be here with us?"

"I was there, you know." Joxer shuddered. "When
Gabby jumped in that pit. Xena was ready to die herself. She’d never let anything
happen to Gabrielle if she could help it. I’ve never seen her so broken up.
She searched for her when everybody else figured she was cinders." He looked
up at Herodotus sympathetically.

"Xena doesn’t let people close to her. Besides me and Gabby
anyway. You call me brave and reliable and all that stuff? Xena’s 10 times that."
Joxer grinned sheepishly. "Guess I couldn’t be your son-in-law after all,
huh? See, I’d pick bein’ with Xena over anybody I know." He ducked his
head. "`Cept maybe Gabrielle."

Herodotus squinted at Joxer. "You love my daughter?"

"Promise not to tell?"

Herodotus nodded.

"Pretty close to it. I do have my eye on … um … never mind.
Yeah, she’d be my first choice."

"Then why let Xena stop you?"

Joxer shrugged. "She’s not. They kinda come together. A
package deal, ya know?" He beckoned Herodotus to sit next to him. "Here,
lemme show you how it works." He made a diagonal line in the dust with
his finger. "This is Xena. She loves Gabrielle," he said, drawing
another diagonal line that formed an X with the first. "I love Gabrielle.
Which means I love what she loves. Which kinda puts me here." He pointed
to where the lines intersected. "See, I’d have to love Xena even if I didn’t
on my own."

"After all the heartache she’s caused Gabrielle."

"Heartache?" Joxer chewed his lip. "Well, sure,
they’ve had their tiffs. Heh. Who doesn’t? Mostly, she makes Gabrielle happy.
Makes her laugh and feel like she can take on the world. Listens to `er."
He snorted. "Me, I’m thinkin’ she’s nuts most times. Not Xena. If Gabby
says, ‘I wanna touch the moon,’ Xena’s busy figurin` how ta do it. If Gabby
says ta give some bad guy a chance, Xena’s tryin’ ta see where the good is.
Isn’t that how it is with you and Hecuba?"

"What?" Herodotus blinked. "Hecuba?"

"Everybody oughtta have somebody love `em that much. Sure
hopin’ I do someday." Joxer grimaced. "I may look like a babe magnet,
but …."

The older man watched his guest’s mouth move, but didn’t hear
a word. Hecuba?! If anyone else dared make such a comparison between his wife
and that warrior woman, he would’ve demanded an apology at the very least. Joxer
obviously didn’t intend insult. In fact, he appeared to be a man of honor, without
a malicious bone in his body. Herodotus couldn’t decide if Joxer was one of
the most naïve people he’d ever met, slightly "touched" or deceptively
wiser than the odd outfit he wore would suggest.

"… So you can understand the problem with my manly charms.
A little too …." Joxer waggled his hand. "I think that’s what happened
with Gabby. Nice girl, your daughter. Now Meg, she’s more used to us worldly
types, if you get my drift."

"You’re an amazing young man." Herodotus continued
searching Joxer’s face for some clue to his puzzling inner workings.

"True. I control it pretty well though. Otherwise I’d be
leaving a trail of broken -."

"Better get back to work. Hecuba’ll be calling us for supper
soon." Herodotus hefted his hammer, seeming to weigh it in his hand. He
gave Joxer another long look. "I’m a man of firm beliefs. Not often somebody
makes me question them. I’ll consider what you’ve said."

Joxer had begun sorting through Herodotus’ tools, hoping to
find something less dangerous than the hammer that had attacked him. His head
jerked up when he caught Herodotus’ last words. "Huh?"

"Doesn’t mean I’ll be swayed, but I’ll consider it."

"Um …." Joxer so rarely experienced anyone paying
attention to him, he often forgot to listen to himself. "Which part?"

"Your thoughts on my daughter."

Joxer winced. "Oooo. The … um … ‘guy talk’? I don’t usually
…. I mean, I wouldn’t want …. Can we keep that between us? You know, man ta
man?"

Herodotus nodded knowingly. "Of course. Man to man."

♣

Hecuba bustled about as though a dignitary would drop in any
moment. She fussed at her daughters for using the frazzled everyday tablecloth.
Stirred and sniffed and tasted her stew every few minutes to ensure it would
be just right. Made Gabrielle change into one of Lila’s dresses, opining, "That
green thing probably hasn’t had a good wash in ages." When everything was
finally to her satisfaction, she served the food and ordered everyone to sit.

"Everyone" at the moment consisted of her and her
daughters. She wanted to make the most of each second she had with them while
the others were occupied elsewhere. Suspecting they might never have this chance
again, she decided to act as though it was hers forever.

"So, Lila, did you tell Gabrielle your exciting news?"

The sisters exchanged puzzled glances.

"Uh, which news is that?"

"About the bake contest, you silly girl." Hecuba addressed
Gabrielle. "Your sister has become quite a celebrity. Her pies and cakes
usually do well. This year she won every category she entered."

"Oh, that’s great, Lila." Gabrielle relaxed back into
the familiar scene as though yesterday weren’t several years ago or tomorrow
a world apart. "You even beat out Old Lady Sweet Foot?"

Lila coughed.

"Old Lady who?"

Gabrielle smirked. "You didn’t know? It’s what we kids
used to call Zenobia. How do you think she won so much?"

"Gabrielle, what on earth are you talking about?"

"The judges are mostly men, Mother." Lila grinned
at Gabrielle. "We overheard Zenobia spill her secret. ‘Sweetening,’ she
said. ‘Forget a pinch. Put in a foot. Men can’t get enough.’"

"Oh, you girls." Hecuba clucked. "I didn’t raise
you to make fun of your elders."

"Uh huh. You wouldn’t guess it, but Xena’s a comedian when
she wants to be. Has me in stitches half the time."

Lila looked skeptical. "When? Between attacks from robbers
or animals? Between rain drops or gods know what else?"

"Lila, life on the road isn’t that bad."

"Humph. That’s not what I hear." Hecuba pursed her
lips. "We do hear things from time to time. About Xena. Battles with warlords
and such."

"Oh, yes! A guy from Marathon said she led Tripolis in
the defeat of foreign invaders."

"Um, not exactly." Gabrielle grinned. "She did
that all by herself. Well, with a little help from an … a slightly gimpy friend."

Hecuba scowled. "Gimpy? Another time you were hurt?"
She snorted. "Why am I surprised? It’s a wonder my little girl is alive
to tell of it."

Silence descended like a damper on the get together. Hecuba
focused on her food. She hadn’t intended to express words of recrimination that
had built up during her elder child’s absence. Lila chewed her lip and glanced
out the corner of her eye at her sister, fearful their reunion would be ruined.
Gabrielle took a deep breath. She reminded herself how much she loved her blood
family. How much she would miss them when she left again. Why she was and wasn’t
the girl they wanted her to be. She steepled her hands under her chin.

"Those stories of mine? You’re right. They weren’t such
fantasies after all."

Hecuba scowled at her daughter. "I haven’t been out in
the world much, Gabrielle, but I’m not stupid. I accept your decision. I’m your
mother. I only want you to be happy. You don’t have to make me feel better by
-."

"Remember that day Xena saved our village?"

"Of course."

"She was so much more than anything I’d imagined up in
the sky. She actually helped people. And you know what? She didn’t care what
they said about her. Whether they thought she was good and beautiful. It was
what she thought was right. For herself, for them. As happy as I was,
as much as I loved you all, I felt …." Gabrielle’s eyes drifted to the
window.

"You know how we’d run out to your flower garden? To see
if a certain bud had bloomed yet? Sometimes the cold lasted longer than usual
or there wasn’t enough rain. You’d worry you hadn’t planted something deep enough.
That maybe blight or an insect had gotten to it. We’d wait and wait. Run out
with such hope. Come back feeling as though we’d burst if we didn’t see that
blossom. We’d make ourselves forget about it. Then one day, maybe when it was
dreary, we’d happen by. And there it was - that bit of color we’d been waiting
for."

Gabrielle turned toward her mother. "Remember how relieved
and joyous we’d be? How, no matter what else was going on, all seemed right
with the world? That’s how I felt when Xena came. Suddenly realizing there was
nothing wrong with me. My urge to grow. To free the potential inside me."
She reached across the table to take her mother’s hand. "Don’t you see?
You mustn’t blame Xena. It would be like blaming nature for what was meant to
be."

Eyes moist, Hecuba squeezed her daughter’s hand. "I can’t
help worrying. I didn’t know. I imagined the worst. All you’ve been through,
I still fear you’ll …."

"Mother, bad things happen no matter who you are. Where
you are. It could happen right here in Poteidaia." Gabrielle snickered.
"Like, from eating too many of Old Lady Sweet Foot’s cakes."

"Gabrielllle. I see you’re as mischievous as ever."

"Uh huh. And as optimistic. Almost as dreamy. In much better
physical shape though, don’t you think?"

"It’s okay." Gabrielle sighed. "I’ve learned
you can’t hide from the bad stuff. It’ll get you at some point, some way. I
have been through a lot. The first place I headed was here."

Hecuba smiled. "So you did."

"It’s the first place Xena came looking when she believed
me alive."

Hecuba snorted wryly. "We wondered what took her so long."

"She knows how much you all mean to me." Gabrielle
took hold of Lila’s hand. "She’s never tried to replace you. She’s my family
now because she’s all the things you taught me it should be. You’ll always be
my roots. If only you could see …."

"How you’ve blossomed into such a fine young woman?"
Hecuba got up and put her arms around her daughter. "I do, my child. Forgive
your old mother. I’ve missed you so much. Perhaps I am a little envious, not
being a part of your new life. Never doubt my pride in you or that I’ll love
you until my last breath."

"Hey, you two." Lila joined the embrace. "You’re
making me cry. I thought this was supposed to be our time for ‘girl talk.’"

Hecuba chuckled. "It is. That other business took enough
of our hours together." She moved back to her chair. "There is one
question. Guess I’d better ask it now."

"Hokaaay." Gabrielle planted a smile on her face and
steeled herself.

"Hygiene. How exactly do you girls keep that up in the
wilderness?"

♣

Xena took her time returning from the village. She strolled
beside the horse Herodotus had loaned her - which might as well’ve been a mule,
far as she was concerned. "No offense," she said to the animal, rubbing
his head. "Not your fault. Argo’s the best. You’d like her. Don’t go gettin’
any ideas though. She’s already in a committed relationship."

Sighing, Xena realized finding Argo was the one bright spot
she looked forward to. She loved having Gabrielle back, of course. Unfortunately
that pairing wasn’t as simple. Two minutes after reuniting, they’d had to deal
with Hope and the Destroyer. Two minutes after that came more pain and drama
- this time involving Gabrielle’s relatives who weren’t demons. Xena snorted.
At least not Hecuba and Lila. She wasn’t so sure about Herodotus. She chuckled.
He probably thought the same about her.

The horse’s whinny reminded her where she was. She could see
Gabrielle’s home, candles flickering in the window. She hoped Joxer and Herodotus
were there, leaving the barn free for some solitude. Just in case, she decided
to spend awhile outside. She removed the horse’s saddle. After taking him to
his corral, she strode briskly toward the trees not far away. She made a fire
in a small clearing and settled in to sharpen her sword. She focused on the
metal’s solidity, on the comfort she usually derived from this routine.

Despite her best efforts to stay in the present, her mind drifted
to the vision Alti had shown her of the future. The vision that proved Gabrielle
alive. And foretold her death. Xena shivered. No, simplicity certainly did not
describe their life since Britannia. Since Caesar and Dahok turned their world
upside down and Gabrielle inside out. She hadn’t told her partner about the
vision of their crucifixion. Partly she wanted to believe they’d prevail as
usual. Partly she feared they might not.

Suddenly tired, she let her head rest in her hands. She’d told
Gabrielle they would find their way together. But did she have that right? To
keep putting Gabrielle in jeopardy because of her past? Her enemies? The justice
she’d so far managed to avoid?

Maybe Herodotus spoke the truth, even though he’d mistaken Hope
for Gabrielle. Maybe being with the Warrior Princess had changed Gabrielle for
the worse. Dimmed the light in her eyes faster than maturing might have done
under other circumstances. Xena stared into the fire, her brain soon consumed
by her burning questions.

Part 2

Herodotus felt the need for air. Not that the conversation between
Joxer and the women bothered him. On the contrary, the scene came closest to
his vision of how things could be. Should be. Might not be ever again. He paused
a moment to gaze at the modest house he’d built from nothing. To be a husband
and father. A provider and protector. A man.

He’d achieved all that. Been the envy of men with lesser homes, lesser wives,
lesser children. But not good enough for his first fruit. The apple of his eye.
She’d seen something better in someone else. A woman. A stranger decent people
reviled. Who offered neither hearth nor home, but danger and deprivation. The
bitterness coated his tongue even now. Had over the years eaten away at his
heart. As it would any father who’d been rejected by his child.

Herodotus’ eyes clenched. When he opened them, he would see
his daughter where she belonged. Hear the laughter he hadn’t truly appreciated
until it was gone. He was a stubborn man, but not the slab of stone he’d seemed
when Gabrielle left. He loved his daughter. She’d obviously found what she wanted,
whatever his opinion about that. It was up to him this time to decide if that
was good enough for him too.

A sound caught his ear. The horse was back. Herodotus walked
over to the fence and saw the saddle resting there. He carried it into the barn,
not surprised to find the place uninhabited. He came out and squinted into the
darkness. Ah. A light flickering through the trees. As if on their own, his
feet took him toward it. He walked quietly to the edge of the clearing.

For someone so formidable, the warrior woman looked surprisingly
vulnerable. Lonely even. Her face a mask of light and shadows. Her proud shoulders
slumped. What could someone like that be feeling? It hit him how strange it
was to believe she had feelings at all. His lips pressed together. What did
it matter? Accepting Gabrielle and her choices was one thing. Caring anything
about that woman would be asking too much. He turned to leave.

"Nice night for a walk." Xena gazed into the darkness
where Herodotus blended with the trees. "You’ve come this far. Might as
well finish it. If not, I thank you for the use of your horse. Not exactly what
I’m used to, but he did the job."

Herodotus approached. "He usually does. Doesn’t have to
be fancy. Dependable is all I need."

Xena nodded. "Same with a fancy one like mine. All this
time I’ve been gone, I know she’s waitin’ for me. Gabrielle thinks I’m nuts.
She’ll see."

"You’re going after her? Your horse?" Herodotus walked
up to the fire and warmed his hands.

"Yup. Soon as Gabrielle …. Soon as we’ve finished our visit."

"You know …." Herodotus lowered himself to the ground.
"You considered doing it before? Before Gabrielle leaves? It’ll give her
more time to spend with her family."

"I have. She said no. "

"You’d let her? If she wanted to stay?"

"`Let’ her? We talkin’ Gabrielle?"

Herodotus met the warrior’s eyes. "You can’t deny having
a hold over her. Hard to tell where she leaves off and you begin."

"I do worry about that. My end of it anyway." Xena
crooked her head. "Lemme ask you somethin’."

"Ask."

"Did you let Gabrielle believe in fanciful dreams? Like
castles in the sky?"

"As a child?" Herodotus narrowed his eyes. "I
tried to give her a solid foundation. Values that would serve her well as a
mature woman."

"Mm. Why’d you let her follow me? That first time?"

"I didn’t. She wouldn’t heed my warnings. Snuck off like
a thief in the night."

Xena nodded. "Me too."

"What?"

"I told her not to follow me. Next thing I know, she’s
saving me from a stoning. My own kin. Hadn’t quite forgiven me for leading their
sons into battle."

"She did that?"

"She did." Xena smiled ruefully. "We all tried.
Told her what I was like. She alone wouldn’t hear it. I’ve had enough blood
on my hands. The last thing I want is hers."

Herodotus studied the woman across the fire. The ice blue eyes
had thawed. For the first time he saw in them pain, regret, resignation. Fear.
None of the smug satisfaction he expected in the conqueror who’d won his daughter.
He dropped his eyes to his hands. "Suppose she got that from me. The stubbornness.
I don’t always listen either."

Xena shrugged. "Comes with strong convictions. Not many
people would’ve stood up to those slavers. Or a lynch mob. I’ve seen her throw
herself in front of arrows to save someone. Disobey my orders in a minute, if
she thinks it’s right. Headstrong? Heroic? Whatever, she’s her own person. No
one - father or friend - makes Gabrielle be other than who she chooses."

Herodotus nodded. "Joxer said as much."

"Joxer?!"

"He believes she … freely stays with you. Hard to imagine,
but he seems to know what he’s talking about."

Xena bit her lip. "Yes, hard to imagine."

"A special young man, Joxer."

"That he is."

"I .… " Herodotus lifted his chin. "I thank you
both for … what you did. Took a lot of courage. And … fondness … for my daughter."

The corners of Herodotus’ mouth twitched. "Even someone
like him has his faults," he said, holding the warrior’s eyes. They exchanged
slight nods before he left her to her thoughts.

♣

Gabrielle had never considered Joxer charming, let alone a good
conversationalist. Obviously the other women in her family thought otherwise.
They blushed at his compliments (and he gave many), held their stomachs at his
jokes and malapropisms (many of those too), stumbled over themselves to anticipate
his every whim. She felt a surge of pride in him on one hand. On the other,
she feared she’d gag. Wanting some air, she eased unnoticed out the door.

She entered the barn. She’d seen the horse and hoped Xena would
be there. She would’ve liked a bedtime chat after so many weeks apart. She glanced
around. Her father and Joxer had done a good job putting everything back in
order. No blood marked the spot where Hope and the Destroyer had lain embraced
in death. Xena hadn’t wanted her to touch them, but she felt the loss nonetheless.
The coldness of a mother who believed it best not to mourn the passing of her
child.

"Gabrielle?"

She whirled, startled to see her father in the door. "Oh,
hi. I was looking for Xena."

"You seem troubled. Not surprising." Herodotus came
closer. "Are you sure you should be here?" He gestured toward the
patch of hay his daughter had been staring at.

"I’m fine. Just sorry she hurt so many people. Especially
all of you."

Herodotus studied his daughter. "I should’ve known it wasn’t
you. She had an edge. A glint to the eye. Not a light, like yours. Hard, more
metal."

"You couldn’t know. Who would? Even I can’t believe it."
Gabrielle regarded her father with sad empathy. "You wanted your daughter
back. Hope gave her to you."

"I got what I deserved."

"That’s not true. None of us did."

Herodotus got a stool and dropped down tiredly. "I wanted
to believe. That Xena’d changed the happy child she’d taken from me." He
lowered his head. "I was wrong. Gods help me, I preferred that … illusion
… over accepting you could be better off with Xena."

Gabrielle steadied herself against a stall. "It’s not easy
being a parent. Xena was one. Did you know that?"

"Her? A mother?"

"As a young warlord. She gave her infant to the Centaurs.
So he wouldn’t become like her. Years later we met him. He’d grown into a wonderful
boy." Gabrielle swallowed. "Hope killed him."

Herodotus gasped.

"Xena suspected my baby might be evil. I didn’t want to
hear it. I saved Hope from Xena’s sword. Secretly sent her off in a basket down
a river. She grew into what Xena feared. Eventually into my likeness."

"Lila said gods were involved. You can’t blame yourself
for -."

"I named her ‘Hope’ because I wanted so badly for her to
be good. Kept believing even when I should’ve known better." Gabrielle
snorted softly. "You were wrong about me, but at least …." Her voice
caught. "At least no one died."

"Daughter …." Herodotus went to Gabrielle. He hesitated
a moment, searching her eyes until he saw permission to embrace her. He felt
her sobs before he heard them. "It’s all right," he soothed, stroking
her hair. "I’ve got you." When she calmed, he led her to the mill
platform. He sat beside her with his arm around her shoulder.

Gabrielle wiped her eyes. "When I saw them lying there
…. I carried Hope inside me, Father. Gave birth to a part of myself. Had the
same dreams for her as any mother. I wanted to cry. I couldn’t. Not in front
of Xena. For the murderer of her child. Not for myself, when I’d caused my own
pain."

"You can cry now all you want." Herodotus squeezed
her shoulder. "Cry for your hard-headed father while you’re at it."

"Some." Herodotus stood and helped his daughter up.
"We came to agreement on more than Joxer."

"Really. Like what?"

Herodotus smiled enigmatically. "Like what’s important
in a good horse."

♣

"Is this a private affair?"

Xena was already looking at the area where Gabrielle emerged,
having recognized the familiar tread. She decided it best not to comment on
the unfamiliar dress. "Depends. Invitation only. One person on the guest
list. You her?"

"I’d better be. I even wore ‘clean’ clothes for the occasion.
Compliments of Mother."

Gabrielle came around to sit next to Xena in front of the fire.
They didn’t talk for a while. Neither felt it necessary to say how much she’d
missed this previously mundane aspect of the life interrupted by recent events.

"Sure I shouldn’t camp with you here? Word has it you might
want the company."

"Herodotus?"

"Uh huh. We had a chat. I understand you did too."

"Mmhm. How’d it go?"

"Pretty well. Yours?"

"Not bad. No sword pointed at me this time. How about your
mom and Lila?"

"Well, things’re definitely on the mend. I’m thinking we
can start our quest to find Argo tomorrow. Maybe after breakfast."

"Don’t suppose your family’ll adopt Joxer."

"Heh. Like we could convince him to stay behind."

"Much as I’d love camping here, might as well get it over
with." Xena began putting out the fire. "I’ll suffer through more
of Joxer in the barn. G’won back to the house. After everything, your folks
deserve at least that much consideration."

"Strange how this is working out." Gabrielle got up
and waited for Xena to join her. "Such tragedy and pain connected to our
families. Our blood ones and the ones we’ve made. Yet we’re stronger, closer
in many ways than before."

As they started back, the vision of Gabrielle tied to a cross
flashed through Xena’s mind. "You know I’d be okay with you staying longer.
Could probably use the rest."

"Xena, we settled that. What’s with bringing it up again?"

"Sorry." Xena pushed down the image she feared and
focused instead on her joy at seeing Gabrielle alive. "You know me - mountains
out of molehills."

"Listen, we’ve done what we can repairing my family here.
It’s reminded me what I love about them." Gabrielle chuckled. "And
why I knew my destiny wasn’t battling senior citizens in bake contests. What
about our family on the road? We need each other for healing. Argo too. All
of us … re-pairing … so to speak."

"I meant your … way with words. And something else coming
back to me now. Not how much you and Joxer like each other. How alike you are."
Xena smirked. "Special. Very, very special."

"I’m gonna do you a favor. Take that as a compliment."

"Oh, it is. Ask Herodotus. He came up with that."

"Speaking of which, what did he mean about you and him
agreeing on horses?"

"Um, we want `em dependable. Like Argo."

"Ah." Gabrielle smirked. "I got the feeling he
thinks maybe she shares that quality with her mistress."

Xena tilted her head. Impressed as always with Gabrielle’s perceptiveness.
As usual reluctant to concede too many smugness points. She shrugged. "So?
You disagree?"

"Noooo. Definitely one of your better qualities."
Gabrielle tilted her head. "Interesting though. Kinda funny when you think
about it."

"Mm."

"You know, that he’d see Joxer as ‘special.’" Gabrielle
giggled. "And you as a horse?"

Xena cut her eyes at her partner. They’d entered the yard. "He’s
your father." She gave Gabrielle a quick hug. "Maybe you inherited
his … broad … tastes," she said before sauntering toward the barn.

"Oh? How so?"

"Nutbread one minute," Xena threw over her shoulder.
"Raw squid the next."

"Xena?"

The warrior paused at the barn door, grinning. "Yessss?"

"Which one’re you?"

Pleased with the warrior’s wordless response, Gabrielle turned on her heel
and headed for the house. Eyes glistening. Grateful her confidence in family
had been renewed. Appreciating how they’d each pushed through the darkness to
display something miraculous she wouldn’t have seen otherwise. Savoring these
precious moments she felt her world right again. A child once more discovering
her mother’s garden in bloom. ♣